


Birthday For My Brother

by Moorishflower



Series: A Cold Academic Hell [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moorishflower/pseuds/Moorishflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam probably shouldn't listen to Gabriel's advice, especially since he's trying to keep the whole relationship a secret, but Gabriel gives really, really good advice. Part of the Cold Academic Hell 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday For My Brother

Sam has been planning Dean’s birthday for years. Not this _specific_ birthday, mind, but year after year, fake mid-life crisis after fake mid-life crisis (Dean has been having them, on and off, ever since he turned eighteen and realized that he had finally reached the legal age of consent), on and on, and Sam will probably be planning Dean’s birthdays when they’re both in their eighties, because that’s how brothers work. At least, that’s how they work in the _Winchester_ family, and it’s one of the few things that they’ve never had problems with. Birthdays are just as tarnished by memories of their absent father, but they’ve always been…softer, somehow. Sam can’t really explain it.

This year is different, though. It takes Sam a while to put his finger on it, but the second that he gets the text from Dean – the one saying that he’s going out, and that he’ll be back in time for them to celebrate – he realizes exactly what’s wrong. Well, not _wrong_ , per se, but definitely not ordinary.

This is the first birthday that Dean’s ever been able to celebrate with someone other than Sam.

It’s a weirdly profound thought, and Sam sits in the Impala for a long time after his classes have ended, pondering it. True to Dean’s word, the keys had been in the magnetic box underneath the rear bumper, and Sam realizes that leaving the keys behind had been, in and of itself, a huge show of trust for his brother. Dean loves his car more than he loves most people – it’s every good memory he has of their father, every laugh, every movie they went out to watch, every afternoon spent with a wrench in one hand and a grease rag in the other. Giving Sam the keys to the Impala is, in Dean’s eyes, like letting a three year-old handle a newborn kitten.

The enormity of it perplexes and alarms him. Sam rests his head against the wheel, sighing heavily. Dean probably won’t be back for a while, so there’s no need for Sam to hurry to do anything. The cake doesn’t take that long to bake, the presents are already wrapped…He supposes he could go back to the apartment and play some Call of Duty, but where’s the fun in that? Video games are best when they’re played with a friend in the room.

Sam stuffs his hand into his pocket, fiddling with his phone. He flips it in his palm and then pulls it out, eyeing the blank screen.

After another moment, he hits the _text_ button and slowly keys in a name from his address.

 _Hey Gabriel,_ he types. _You busy?_

~

It’s Gabriel’s idea to head back to the apartment, and, without Dean there to see him, Sam has no reason to object. He keeps telling himself that he’s a legal, consenting adult, and whatever happens will happen. He’s big enough that he can fend off unwanted advances without having to go running to his brother for help, and…

Jesus, he shouldn’t be thinking about Gabriel that way. The guy can be a jerk sometimes, sure, but he’s…for lack of a better word, he’s a _gentleman_. The only thing he’s done so far is make some corny dick jokes, and, Sam has to admit, those had been kind of funny. Gabriel won’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’d said it himself, he’s not interested in being Sam’s experiment.

“Nice digs,” Gabriel says, strolling into the apartment ahead of Sam. He’s got a presence about him that makes it seem like he owns everything around him. Confidence, Sam thinks. It’s something that he lacks, from time to time, but which Dean exudes like it was sweat.

Sam locks the door behind them. If Dean comes back, they’ll have some warning at least, and Gabriel can…he doesn’t know, hide under Sam’s bed or something. “We were lucky. Two bedrooms for the price of one. It was a really good deal. Dean’s friend found it for him.”

“I cannot begin to tell you how nice it is to see a bachelor pad that hasn’t been decorated within an inch of its life.” Sam raises and eyebrow, and Gabriel grins. “ _My_ brother, you know? He also cleans, sews, and builds bookshelves. Jack of all trades.”

“What about you?”

“I do a bit of this, a bit of that. I cook, mostly. I’ve been trying to branch out into baking as well.” Gabriel taps the side of his mouth. “Sweet tooth, you know?”

Sam swallows. The bag of cookies is still sitting in the kitchen. He’d forgotten to give them to Gabriel on their date. “I, uh. I bake.”

Gabriel’s eyes widen. “Be still my _heart_. Could you get any more perfect?”

“You’re just saying that because you want cookies.”

“Well, if you happen to _have_ cookies…”

Sam laughs, and then leads the way into the kitchen. He drags the bag of cookies out from where he’d hidden them – from Dean, of course – behind the toaster, and offers the whole thing to Gabriel. Gabriel, who looks like Christmas has decided to come back earlier than usual.

“Never leave me,” Gabriel says, and Sam laughs again as the bag is opened, the cookies raided. Gabriel looks happy. Sam has no idea what he was ever worried about.

And then he says, “It’s Dean’s birthday today.” He’s not sure why he mentions it – he’s sure that Gabriel doesn’t really care – but it just sort of…pops out, and Gabriel, he _stops_ , in the middle of eating a cookie. Stops and sort of tilts his head at Sam, more considering than confused. He pulls the half-eaten cookie from his mouth, chewing pensively, swallowing.

“Is it, now?”

“Yeah. And…I don’t know. I’m pretty sure he’s out with his boyfriend right now, and I just…I don’t know how I can compare to that, you know? It’s always been me and him before, _just_ us, even my last girlfriend, she didn’t celebrate my birthday on the same day as Dean and I. It’s our thing, and now it’s like I have to _share_ him, and…” Sam isn’t sure where any of this is coming from, this flood of insecurity and anxiety. He has the feeling that it’s been hovering at the back of his mind ever since Dean started talking about his mysterious psychology major pseudo-boyfriend, but he’d never noticed it, never even tried to pick apart the ball of worry that was slowly gaining weight behind his eyes.

Gabriel is looking at him, a strange, soft look. He stuffs the rest of the cookie into his mouth, chews furiously, and takes a step forward and folds Sam into a hug. He’s warm, and he smells like cookies and, beneath that, something dark and earthy and comforting. “It’ll be all right,” he says softly. “He’s not abandoning you.”

Slowly, Sam raises his arms and curls them around Gabriel’s waist. Sam remembers doing this with Jessica, and always feeling like he was a giant compared to her. Like he was the one who was always giving her comfort, regardless of what the situation really was. He’s surprised to find that he doesn’t feel that way with Gabriel. It doesn’t feel awkward or one-sided, it just feels…nice.

Gabriel’s hair smells like sugar and something vaguely fruity. Sam presses his nose to the crown of Gabriel’s head and breathes in, deep and slow.

“You don’t have to do this,” he murmurs, and Gabriel laughs.

“I know. But I want to. You’re a sweet kid, Sam. You shouldn’t feel like there isn’t anyone left in the world for you.”

Sam stiffens. “I’m not a kid,” he says, and Gabriel laughs again.

“No. No, I guess you’re not. But that means you have to let your brother go. You can’t keep clinging to him.”

“I don’t…”

“Don’t even try it. I’ve got Castiel, remember? And Lucifer, and Michael, and Raphael…Trust me, there’s no shortage of brother drama in my life. I _know_ what you’re going through, Sam.”

Sam huffs, ruffling Gabriel’s hair. He doesn’t want to let go, not just yet, but Gabriel initiates their parting, leaning backwards, subtle at first, and then unwinding his arms from around Sam’s torso. Sam has no choice but to take a step back. He doesn’t want this to become awkward.

“So,” he says. “Letting go, huh?”

Gabriel grins at him. “What better way to let go than to give your blessing?”

~

Dean comes home late. Not late enough that they can’t still celebrate, but late enough that Sam thinks he probably didn’t want to leave his boyfriend in order to come home. He forces himself to take a deep breath. This is what Gabriel was talking about. Letting go. Gabriel had told him, before he left to go back to his own house, that it would be hard. Maybe the hardest thing Sam’s ever done.

But it’ll be worth it to see the look on Dean’s face.

Dean wanders into the kitchen first, probably attracted by the smell of the baking cake. He leans over the oven and turns the light on, peering through the glass window. He’s wearing a scarf, wrapped loosely ‘round his neck, the material soft looking, dark navy blue. Sam leans against the edge of the kitchen doorway and clears his throat. “Dean?”

Dean spins around, grinning. An extravagant grin, excited, boyish. “Sammy!”

“Nice scarf.”

Dean reaches up, touching the scarf as if he’d forgotten that it was there at all. “Thanks. It was, uh. A gift.”

“From your boyfriend.” There’s no doubt about that in his mind, and Dean confirms it when he ducks his head, his grin gentling, his cheeks…Jesus, is he _blushing_? Blushing at being found out, or blushing because he and his boyfriend did…?

“Yeah,” Dean says, and then switches the oven light off and abruptly leaves the kitchen, stomping down the hall to his room. Sam looks after him, laughing.

“You’ll tell me about him sooner or later!”

He’s answered by the sound of Dean’s door slamming shut, and Sam snorts, and then goes about getting ready to get the cake out of the oven.

It takes the smell of the finished cake, _plus_ the sound of Sam getting out plates and forks, to draw Dean out of hiding. He’s no longer wearing the scarf, and he’s changed out of his clothes into sweatpants and a t-shirt. Sam grabs a knife out of the cutlery drawer and cuts into the cake, big pieces, and the biggest for Dean. It’s an old tradition, but one that his sweets-loving brother appreciates.

“You had a good time, then?” Sam asks, sure that Dean will shut him down immediately, grunt something incomprehensible or else just leave the room again. He slides a slice of cake onto one of the plates and then sets it down at Dean’s place at the table.

He’s surprised when Dean, upon taking a seat, says, “Yeah. I did.”

Sam gives himself a much smaller piece, then joins his brother at the table. “ _Will_ you tell me about him?”

He doesn’t expect an answer. Yet again he’s surprised. “He’s a little older. I told you that, right? And he’s…God, he’s got the most amazing smile. He doesn’t smile a lot, he’s kind of serious, but when he does…I don’t know, you think it’ll be the most awkward thing in the world, him smiling, but it lights up the room. And he likes to read, and sometimes he writes. You know, stuff that isn’t papers. He told me he’d let me see some of the things he’s done. The ones that got published.”

Dean’s got this blissful smile, a look Sam’s not used to seeing on him. He thinks he looked like that, once, with Lisa, but Dean hasn’t been _really_ happy for a long time, and…and Sam’s just glad to see his brother smiling again. Smiling like he means it. He remembers what Gabriel had said, about letting go, and he thinks that maybe this is what it’s supposed to feel like. Sort of bittersweet, but…good.

“I don’t know why you try to keep him from me,” Sam says, slow, careful, like he’s trying not to spook a wild bird. “But he sounds like a really good guy, and I just want you to know that if you two work out, then I support you. One hundred percent.”

“Sammy, are you getting all sappy on me?”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll hate me after this.”

“Huh?”

Grinning, Sam reaches underneath the table and pulls out the bag containing Dean’s presents. It’s a big bag, stuffed with multicolored tissue paper and with a bow stuck to the side, and when Sam sets it down on the table Dean’s eyes widen. He hastily takes a large bite of his cake, mumbles “Finished,” and then lunges for the presents like a starving man groping for a ham sandwich. Sam laughs and shoves the bag forward so that Dean doesn’t rip his arms off trying to get at his gifts.

“Don’t hit me,” he says, as Dean starts pulling things out of the bag. Small things, at first – those are the ones on top: black polish for Dean’s boots, a new pocketknife to replace the one that Dean had bought for himself last year, the one that the screwdriver had snapped off of. Then, below those, the bigger gifts: a “Best of Classic Rock” calendar for Dean to hang up in his room, some new notebooks for classes, a nice shirt for Dean to wear on dates (not that Sam mentions that, but it had been what he’d kept in mind while he was shopping)…

And then beneath those are what Sam has been thinking of as “Gabriel’s gifts.” Technically, they’re from _him_ , but they had been Gabriel’s idea, and Sam, after some convincing, had reluctantly agreed. _You need to give him your blessing,_ Gabriel had said. _That’s the best way for you to let him go._

“What’s this?”

Dean lifts the box of condoms out of the bag, frowning slightly as he turns it over. A look of dawning comprehension crosses his face. “ _Christ_ , Sammy, what the hell?”

“I just…” Sam clears his throat. “Look, I know that you and this guy have only been dating for like, a couple days, but you’ve been talking about him for _months_ , and…I think he’s good for you. Seriously, I haven’t seen you this happy for a really long time, and I just want you to know that I’m glad. And that I approve. Whoever he is, whatever it is he does…You’re happy, and so I’m happy for you.”

“Christ,” Dean says again, and lifts out the tube of lubricant that Sam had bought. _WARMING_ , the label screams in inch-high yellow letters. _FOR HER PLEASURE._ Sam winces. “This is the weirdest gift anyone’s ever given me.”

“Are you going to hit me?”

Dean glances up, brows furrowed. “What? No. Why would I hit you?”

“I don’t know, for being presumptuous?”

“No! I mean, I get it, I do, I was just…kind of startled. And a little weirded out, but mostly startled.” Dean grins, holding the box of condoms up and shaking it. “There a reason why you know what size condoms I use, Sammy?”

“Oh my God, Dean.”

“Hey, you’re the one who bought them!” Dean laughs, a deep belly laugh that triggers something in Sam, and a moment later he’s laughing, too, and Dean tosses the box of condoms and the tube of lubricant down onto the table. The sound of the box hitting the formica only makes them laugh harder.

“Thanks,” Dean wheezes, and Sam leans across the table, over the box of condoms, and touches his brother’s shoulder.

“Happy birthday,” he says. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Dean does the same, breathing deeply through his nose, eyes glinting. “Hope you like your presents.”

Dean glances at the lubricant. His mouth pinches, as if trying to hold in a cough. “I’m sure I will,” he squeaks, and that sets them both off again, the two brothers sitting at their kitchen table, laughing over a box of condoms.  



End file.
